


Night Owl

by ChrissiHR



Series: Borrowed Time [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Dum Dum is a Good Bro, Exhibitionism, F/M, Flirting, Implied Time Travel, Multi, Polyamorous Character, Prompt Fic, SSR Agent!Darcy, Time Travel, Voyeurism, Wordcount: 100-1.000, Wordcount: 500-1.000, flashfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 13:56:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrissiHR/pseuds/ChrissiHR
Summary: The lyrics struck Bucky as deliberately salacious, like she’d chosen the song just to drive him that farther bit crazy.Lord, but she did drive him crazy, he thought with a wry grin. Three days and nights, Bucky’d been treated to this sweet torture by their resident night owl.(a continuation from Undercover in the Borrowed Time verse)





	Night Owl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fanfic_bookworm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfic_bookworm/gifts).



> Prompt fill written for @fanfic_bookworm  
> Pairing: Darcy x Bucky  
> Relationship: romantic (intimate, non-explicit)  
> Prompt: dancing & kissing  
> Song credit: “Because the Night” by 10,000 Maniacs  
> Beta'd by Zephrbabe and phoenix_173

Lewis ended up with more than two rooms during their wait for the intel they were promised from Carter’s agent in Paris. The leader of the local French Resistance fighters took a shine to curvy, little Agent Lewis right off, showing her to an airy, sky blue apartment filled with beveled glass mirrors and gilded furniture on tiptoe. Floor to ceiling windows and doors opened onto a wide balcony with a view of a garden courtyard across from the rooms assigned to the Howlies.

Bucky would have envied her the private bath, too, but he could hardly complain, given the spectacular view through her windows from his own comfortable quarters.

She showered in the middle of the night most often—early, though, hours before sunrise, after her nightly fitness run under cover of darkness, when she’d draw less attention with her exercise regime. Unfortunately for the pretty brunette, Bucky’s night vision was a mite better since Zola’s experiments at Kreischberg, so Lewis didn’t enjoy so much privacy as she supposed, given the early morning hour.

Not that she would have minded much, he figured, bold as brass like she was with Dugan and the other fellas, with her brazen talk about ‘mustache rides’ and getting her ‘daily dose of Vitamin D’, and the little ridges under her arm she claimed protected her from unwanted pregnancy and disease—just one of many marvels of the future she’d sworn him and the other fellas to secrecy about.

Marvels such as the little device pumping out crystal clear music unlike anything Bucky ever heard before as she turned under the shower spray, casting shapely shadows he couldn’t help but appreciate from across the way. She danced and shimmied under the water, occasionally breaking into song along with the musician’s voice filling the room from her little pocket radio-whatever and splashing water everywhere as she danced and carried on.

“ _Take my hand, as the sun descends..._

_They can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now, can't hurt you no-o-o-o-o-o-ow..._

_Because the night belongs to lovers, because the night belongs to us..._ ”

The lyrics struck Bucky as deliberately salacious, too, like she’d chosen the song just to drive him that farther bit crazy.

Lord, but she did drive him crazy, he thought with a wry grin.

“She at it again?” Jones asked, turning over in his bed next door. Thus far, they slept with the doors open between rooms unless one of the fellas got lucky with a local girl from the Resistance group. Three days and nights, Bucky’d been treated to this sweet torture by their resident night owl. Shame it had to end in a few days.

“Always.” Bucky smiled, hugging his pillow tight and watching her nighttime ritual without shame.

“She wouldn’t send ya away if ya went over there, ya know,” Dugan muttered from his bunk across the hall.

“I don’t poach—” Bucky started to insist, offended.

But Dugan interrupted, “Can’t poach what don’t belong to another fella in the first place.” Dugan pursed his lips and peered at Bucky from under the arm slung across his face. “She ain’t some camp tramp, either, so don’t stick your foot in it. Things are different where she come from is all.”

Bucky glanced at the other man, surprised.

Dugan cleared his throat and explained, “She’s got a fella back home, some kinda federal agent. She made him promise the job came first, and his comfort, too, so they don’t hold it against it each other—takin’ somebody else to bed for cover or comp’ny. ‘Sides which, she don’t even know if she’ll get the chance to go back.”

“She told you all’a that?” Bucky demanded, letting go of his pillow to sit up and stare at the other sergeant.

The mustache twitched and Dugan repositioned the bowler hat over his face to block the light coming in from the full moon over the valley. “Whaddaya think we talk about when she’s all snugged up tight against me, tryin’ to look like a brainless, big-boobed bumpkin, drivin’ all over hell and back for intel? Can’t all be jokes and gropes and good times. We talk, sometimes,” Dugan grunted. “She avoids Stark, much as she can get away with it. Figure there’s good reason for that, so I don’t push, but she’s mentioned gettin’ to know _you_ a little better, time to time.”

Bucky’s gaze returned to the windows at the sound of the water turning off. The shapely silhouette behind the curtain rose from fiddling with the taps to grab for the towel slung over the rod. She toweled off with brisk efficiency, her bobbers swaying gently in the moonlight, a sway he definitely would have missed with his old eyesight. She leaned out just far enough to grab the nightie draped over a hook by the bath, pulling it over her head before stepping out.

Bathed in moonlight, though, nothing much was left to the imagination except where he’d start kissing, given half a chance to help her forget going home and rethink staying right here. Then she glanced up from buttoning her nightie and smirked, tossing Bucky’s window a sly wink before she pulled the sheer curtains to and the amorphous shadow of her crossed the room.

Bucky rolled out of bed.

At the sound of his booted feet hitting the floor as he tugged them on, Dugan chuckled. “She’ll eat you alive, kid.”

It was a chance Bucky was ready to take.


End file.
